


The voice

by Superwholock88



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Description, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 12:20:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4435250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superwholock88/pseuds/Superwholock88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes our biggest critic is inside our head. Sorry crappy summary. Please give it a shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The voice

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing a story here. I only have my phone so please excuse any mistakes, it's also like four in the morning so I'm not sure if everything I checked is right. Also definitely not brit-picked. May or may not make this multi-chaptered. Depends on the feedback

It was our last case that started the voices again. Well one voice really, mine. See the thing is being a genius isn't all its cracked up to be. There's this constant need to do everything 100% correctly all of the time. The first time I 'heard' the voice was in my accelerated 1st grade class. I was technically in 7th grade material-wise but being that I was all of seven yrs old it was considered my 1st grade class. I got an A- on my geometry test.  
"Stupid, stupid stupid, you're supposed to be smarter than this, can't you do anything right" the voice screamed. I cried at the time until Mycroft told me to stop, it was below me to cry. I didn't tell him about the voice. It continued all the way through college until I found a way to silence it with drugs. I didn't really lie when I said I did drugs because I was bored. Boredom made the voice yell at me over any mistake I've made even if it was years before. The cases helped. John in his own way helped. But I should have known it couldn't last forever. Not for a freak like me.

Two days ago  
"Lestrade called he's got a case he needs me to solve because his incompetent team is unable to"  I tell John who gives me a reproving look but goes to the door anyway.  
My phone buzzes once in the taxi. I take a look and sigh.  
"John, Lestrade says the murder is of a child and to be prepared ahead of time, whatever that means" I say rolling my eyes.  
"Jesus, Sherlock. Have you ever been to a crime scene of a child?" He asks.  
"No but I do not see why it's any different, just a smaller body." I tell him , he inhales deeply.  
"It's different because children are supposed to be protected and loved not brutally murdered." John says quietly.  
Oh, ok" I say mostly to appease him. We arrive at the crime scene soon after the conversation lulls.  
"What the hell are you doing here, freak" Donavan says immediately  
"Obviously Lestrade needs the help of someone competent" I tell her and go past her to the house beyond the crime scene tape. Lestrade meets us at the door.  
"Sherlock, no antics here, not this time" he says and walks to the yard to get some fresh air. Once inside I freeze. John and Lestrade had warned me but I didn't  heed that information. Laying in the center of the room is a small child. Knife wounds over each major artery. The gore is not what gets to me rather it is the black curly hair. The child looks like i did as a child.  
"There was a note on the body, here, see what you can get" Lestrade says coming back in. I take the note with slightly shaky hands. 

"Number one was easy fun, number two search has begun, catch me if you can. I'm sure your consulting detective will enjoy my game" 

I hand the note back to lestrade. "It appears the child dialed 911 himself before bleeding out. It's a burn phone so no way to track it."Lestrade says

"Was the note the only thing with um, the, with him" I ask.  
"No we have his identity through his school id. His name waa Charles Frankin Eric Holder and he went to Syreatha Montgomery. Does that mean anything?" Lestrade asks. I start to answer but then I dart out the door and down an alley where I dry heave convulsively. I startle at the hand on my shoulder. Seeing that it's John relaxes me some.  
"Are you alright" he asks softly.  
"I'm fine John, let's go check out the school" I say. John nods. We hail a taxi to the school.  
"William is that you" says a voice as we enter the office where we see a secretary smiling.  
"Well I go by Sherlock now" I inform her. "We need to go through this boy's things. It's for the police investigation into his murder" I say causing her to pale.  
"Murder" she whispers mostly to herself.  
"Yes, we also need to speak with his classmates." I continue.  
"Of course, uh here is a key to his dorm. I'll get all of his paperwork ready as well. His room is in hall B" she says. I nod and head in that direction.  
"So uh, William, huh?" John asks and I sigh.  
" The name I went by when I attended this school." I explain.  
"Oh guess it shouldn't really surprise me that you came to the genius of geniuses school." John says sounding impressed.  
"Well you do have to have an IQ of 145 or higher to get in." I say and dread the next question.  
"What is your IQ" he asks curiously.  
"It's measured at around 190" I say as we enter the hall of dorms. John seems to be quietly mulling over my answer. I put the key into the correct door and open it. The bed is tidy and neat. All of the books on the shelf are of higher learning or technical books. A microscope sits on the desk along with neat rows of experiments.  
"Cleanest 10 yr old room I've ever seen, is it a requirement? " John asks.  
"No it's likely the boy had some form of ocd. It's somewhat common amongst higher iq's. He keeps things in perfect order so search out anything not in it's place." I tell John. I smile briefly at an experiment I remember well.  
"Uh I think I found something" John says sounding unhappy.  
I take the paper he's holding.  
 Freak was written in several languages and at the bottom was what had to be upsetting John. 'Freaks like you don't deserve to live, why don't you just off yourself and do the world a favor. Pretend it's one of your experiments.' I sigh and lock away far memories.  
"We need to go talk to his class. Or at least observe, I'll pinpoint who write this" I say.  
"Won't that take a while? Maybe we should call lestrade." John says beginning to pull out his phone.  
"Not necessary, the killer isn't the one who wrote this. It's likely just a kid who's jealous because he was smarter."I say "besides the classes are small it won't take long at all." And then I walk back towards the office. The secretary hands me the papers with teary eyes.  
"He was such a good kid, like you actually. I don't understand why anyone would want to hurt him" she says.  
"That's what we're trying to find out. Did you know that Charles was being bullied?" John asks as I begin to look through his papers.  
"Yes and I informed the headmaster but he really didn't do much except give the boy his own dorm room." The secretary said.  
"His iq was 187. He had mastered seven languages and was in the process of learning three more this year. Where will we find his class mates" I ask.  
John and I head to the classroom the secretary told us to go to. The teacher had been informed and was ready for us.  
"Let me tell them, ok" John says. I nod. It will give me a better chance of scoping the kids out. There are seven kids in the class.  
"My name is John and this is Sherlock. We're helping the police with a case. I hate to have to tell all of you but your class mate Charles was killed and is why we are investigating. If any of you have anything to help us out please let us know." John says.  
"He's really dead" a girl says softly. John nods and she begins to cry. The boy in the corner keeps fidgeting enough that I deduce he was the one who wrote the note. I walk towards him.  
"Were you friends with Charles?"I ask.  
"No not really. I mean no one was really his friend. He is uh was a weird little guy." The boy says.  
"So did you write this note" I ask slapping it down on the desk. The boy jumps and looks horrified.  
"Yes but I didn't kill him, I swear" the boy shouted nervously.  
"Calm down we know you didn't kill him" John says.  
" Yes the force of the stab wounds were much too strong for someone your size and" I begin but am interrupted by John.  
"Sherlock,  they really don't need to hear those details." He says. I frown.  
I'll leave a number on the board if anyone remembers anything call this number. It will be a George Lestrade." I tell them.  
"Uh it's Greg not George. I hear John say. We leave soon after and head home. The night is uneventful as I look through all of the papers the boy had. The next day John goes out to get take out. Lestrade calls.  
"We have another one" he says grimly. I promise to be there soon. John walks in the door just as I'm about to call him. He sees me up and dressed.  
"Another body" he asks and I nod. He puts the take out in the refrigerator and follows me once again. Donavan looks quite pale and says nothing as we pass by. This time to an alley way. The air falls right out of my chest as we near the body. It's the girl that was in the classroom we had spoken to, donavon's reaction made sense as the girl resembled her in some ways..  
"Dear god" John says and Lestrade looks up.  
"Do you know her" Lestrade asks upon seeing our expressions.  
"No not even her name, but we saw her yesterday at the school. She was in the same class" John says.  
"Christ" Lestrade says and hands me a note.  
"I've struck again shall we try for another? Come on Sherlock you're smarter than this aren't you" it says.  
"Any ideas on who this might be" Lestrade asks. His face screams concern. I shake my head and bend to observe the body.  
"Her name is Marie Angela Sadie Goldman. I was heading to the school, will you follow?" Lestrade asks. I nod still not speaking.  
Once in the cab John speaks.  
"Are you alright?" He asks cautiously.  
"Yes John. I'm fine. Let's just go do this." I say and the rest of the cab ride is spent in silence.  
The girls room is much like the boy's.  
"Her iq is 192" Lestrade says flipping through his papers. I flip through my mind palace silently searching for the missing link. It slams into me like a punch to the stomach.  
"Roger Ralph Messing." I say.  
"Who the bloody hell is that?" Lestrade questions.  
"Our killer and the guy I beat out of top spot three years in a row. He's going to go after another today. We need to find him." I say beginning to feel stupid for not catching it earlier. The secretary bursts into the room.  
 "A girl is missing. Lauren Anna Maria Solvay. She's from the same group." She says.  
"Take us to her room" I demand. The secretary nods and leads the way. Again the room is pristine and clean. One book is out of place I grab it and flip through finding another note.  
"Tick tock, who stopped the clock. I absolutely love to mock. Sherlock have you figured it out. I will beat you this time" your not friend to the weirdest freak around.  
I crumple the note and stomp out.  
"We'll call when we get something I hear John say as he rushes to follow me. Once back at our place I get out an old year book to find his hunting spots. I find it and grin.  
"Let's go get him" I say determined.  
"Uh we should call lestrade, not run after him" John complains. I head out the door. We arrive at an abandoned warehouse. I walk in calmly.  
"Roger let Lauren go, she has no part in this feud." I say as I wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.  
"She's a freak just like you, even her classmates don't like her. I did the world a favor. Besides your too late, bye" Roger says and the doors open. Lestrade and team rush in and arrest the man. I go to the girl and put pressure on a couple of the wounds. He left the neck unsliced and she was bleeding slowly.  John adds his hands to the mess until paramedics arrive. Lestrade nods at us before heading out to do paperwork. John and I don't speak on the way home. After we both shower John heats our food from earlier.  
"I'm not hungry" I say and head to my room. I'm plagued by the case as I drift off to sleep.  I wake to a cacophony of yelling.  
"How can you possibly have slept knowing your responsible for those kids death. Your a failure, a freak. You shouldn't even be around. That girl could have died while you were sleeping. Your so selfish and damaged. "I pull on my curls and huff in frustration. I try to ignore the voice.  
"Lauren is going to be ok, physically at least." John says.  
"That's good" I say and plop down on the couch while John reads the newspaper. The voice keeps yelling. "Stupid stupid stupid. You always screw up. Remember when you hurt that girls feelings and made her cry. Or what about that car you crashed into when you were on your bike. You can't even ride a bicycle like a normal person."  
"John I'm bored" I huff out.  
"Well what do you want me to do. You've been sitting here for five minutes. Your not going to waste your brain away." He says exasperated.  
I shrug. 

"See even John doesn't want to be around you. Everyone will always hurt you like you deserve. Poor John has to put up with you." The voice continues.  
I startle when I feel hands on my arms. I open my eyes and see John's concerned face.  
" you were muttering and grabbing your hair, what's going on in that head of yours" he asked softly.  
"John face it I'm a freak who doesn't have feelings and emotions. My brain is my only good quality. I accept that. I just wish I'd solved the case earlier."I tell him sounding defeated.  
"Sherlock listen, you are not a machine, your a regular human being who solves many cases. Your very smart and yes different but it's the exact thing that drew me to you. And that's a bunch of horseshit about not caring. If you didn't have emotions you wouldn't be upset like this. You are not a freak, you are not a robot. Your a flesh and blood human that I've fallen madly in love with." John says still holding my hand.  
"You really mean that? Why me. You could have anyone. I'm screwed up." I say not sure I believe him.  
" screwed up too and yes I would choose you each and every time." He says and runs a hand through my hair. He kisses my forehead.  
"I know you don't believe it yet but you will." He says. I smile slightly. The voice had been pushed back at least for a few happy moments.


End file.
